Beauty and the Beast Revisioned
by Pnnylnskywlkr
Summary: Beauty and the Beast, but not as you remember it. This is a tale as old as time, revisioned. Find familiar characters with different roles, some bad that you thought were good. Belle is on a mission, and with the help of an Air Ship crew, can they best Red and her elite Wolf Pack soldiers? There are other fairy tale characters that make appearances - see how many you can find.
1. Chapter 1

** Beauty and the Beast Revisioned - I was inspired by National Read a Fairy Tale Day recently and decided to rewrite one of my favorites. As I began thinking of what to write, other tales popped into my mind. Some of those characters have found their way into this tale.**

"You've got to be kidding me."

There were four more praetorians weaving their way through the side street perpendicular to me, adding to the already five behind me in hot pursuit. I thought for sure I'd be able to blend in with the midday crowd in the trading district. Today was one of the biggest offloading and loading days in the city, Aurora - capital of our faire realm. Named after a lady of legend who defeated an army that would have enslaved our people. If but she were here now - we are enslaved, oppressed, but not in a physically recognizable way.

I adjusted the goggles on the top of my head for good measure that they wouldn't fly off, tugged the bag snuggly on my shoulder, and ran as fast as I was able in and out of the foot traffic. I just needed to make it to the dock and then we'd be alright. Pan was going to kill me. That is, if Red's goons didn't first.

Maybe my plan was a little flawed. The traditional garb of the city, colorful long robes with hoods to protect them from the sun, wasn't built for the maneuvering I was attempting. I kept tripping over myself until I decided to grab the bit of fabric by my knees and hoist it like a skirt. The tall buildings on either side offered no shade with the sun straight above and I was sweating enough to feel drips down my back. Gross.

My name's Arabella, most call me Belle. My father used to call me Elle. He still would, I suppose, were he alive. Don't you start feeling sorry for me - not because of that. Don't get me wrong, I loved my father dearly as did he me. His passing was over a year ago and I've dealt with it. There are more pressing matters that concern us all and I have no need for your pity. Now, a magic carpet that could get me out this mess? If you have that, that I'll take.

I could see the 'ships in the distance. The Windy Bird would be docked at the fifth hub. If I could just get to the first hub I'd be able to use the other 'ships as hideouts.

"Sorry!" I call out, knocking over a fruit display with my bag that had suddenly shifted.

Beyond the not-so-nice words that followed me, my accident proved to be actually a bit helpful. As I glanced over my shoulder I saw that there were many citizens that had stopped to help, stooping or crouched in the already packed street, blocking the pursuit. That may have given me just the amount of time I needed.

"She's headed for the Air Ships!" I heard one of them yell. Some had found a way around the traffic jam and were back on my trail.

I flashed my wrist, a leather band four fingers wide tied with black leather straps displayed the branding of an airship crew member, at the checkpoint and was waved through. Instead of heading toward the Windy Bird, I follow a line to the first hub as planned. The passenger hub. Getting in line with the rest of those wishing to travel to other cities of the realm, I attempted to catch my breath without causing alarm from my fellow travelers.

Most carried the same type of enchanted bag I held. Small, like a rucksack of older times, but enchanted to hold more items than a person could physically carry. It is said that there are sacks that could pack up an entire house, if you had the money to pay for such an enchantment. And magic was no cheap commodity these days.

This ship was painted bright white and had white sails. Like the other vessels docked in the Aurora port, loading was from the bottom side. The 'ships floated at the literal edge of the city - nothing but blue sky below and above. Ramps were open at several sections on the starboard side and the passengers began a small incline walk inside.

I was maybe three persons away from the entrance when I heard familiar commotion behind me. There's no way they knew which one I was.

Stay calm. Stay calm.

My cloak looked no different than a hundred of those around me. Unless... unless one of my followers had been able to keep his eye on me the entire time.

But that's impossible, right? Two more people. Just wait. Almost there. Yes, ok, turn the corner. Almost out of sight. NOW!

With more apologies, I rushed past passengers just trying to find their level and room. This must be one of the more luxurious 'ships. Most of the ones I had been on were open on the inside, mass seating for the journey. Oh, you fancy. I'll have to tell Pan.

I made my way to the top, pretending not to hear as some of the deck hands began to notice my unwarranted presence. All I needed was... yep, perfect. A loose sail with plenty of extra rope from the top rigging. I grabbed the rope, backed to the edge and ran hard from starboard to port and swung out over the gap between vessels.

Don't look down. Don't look... that's... I'm gonna die.

I closed my eyes and held my breath at the sight of nothing but air and clouds beneath me. But I had to open them again as I knew the other ship was getting closer. This was actually a bad idea. Not the opening of my eyes - that was needed. This whole rope thing. The rope was long, which was needed to swing off of the 'ship. But I started this swing by dropping down - I was below the deck of the other vessel and headed straight for making the first ever Belle Pancake on her hull.

Luck was with me. Just when I needed it, a view port was opened. I put my feet together in front of me and prepared to slide through the opening. At the last moment I screamed for the victim who suddenly appeared to get out of the way of my ramming feet. I hit him square in the chest as I speared my way into the 'ship.

I was fine, but the air was clearly knocked out of this poor fellow. I apologize profusely as I ran to the stairs and climbed down into the maintenance area. I was doing a lot of apologizing today. No one was up or down near this flight, so I quickly removed my robe and wadded it up, shoving it into my bag.

Now I looked like I belonged here. My golden 'ship goggles were on top of my brown hair. I had tried to put it into a pony tail earlier but it was loose now and strands kept getting into my face. You saw the brown leather band I wear on my right wrist. On my left upper arm I wear a thin strip of black leather tied so that the ends dangle loose for several inches. This is in memory of my father. My shirt is off-white, mostly cream, and short sleeved. Over that I wear an overbust sapphire-blue corset. It's not real, just for show - I can actually breath still. I have several belts of different colors of leather and width, and attached to them several utility pouches. My knee-length skirt is maroon of velvet-like material. To end the ensemble I wear black knee-high boots. Not those silly ones with heels. These are made for running.

Scrambling down the stairs I shuffled into the routine of the crew, eyeing the layout and locating the nearest exit. I found it and made my way there casually. Back out in the dock I tried to gauge where the praetorians might be, but it proved difficult without appearing like I was looking for something. I decided just to continue forward and trust that I had given them the slip.

I made my way out of the first hub and back to the main access point for all of the hubs. It wasn't long before I made it to the row of the fifth. Immediately I saw the Windy Bird. She was the last vessel, but the brightest. Her hull was painted that bright blue-green you only find in tropical seas. And her sails were dark blue with white stars. Appearing like folded wings rather than a squarish sheet of a sail, they folded out from the middle and a section was attached at the back like a tail.

I had to keep myself from running, I was so happy to see Pan's 'ship. I couldn't hide the small smile that crept on my lips. Or the fear that replaced it as my arm was grabbed.

"Bag inspection. Reports of stolen goods from the archive - everyone must be checked."

I slowly turned around and replaced my fear with the best impersonation of pleasantness I could muster. How was I going to get out of this?

"She's mine," I heard a familiar voice say. Then there was a sword at my throat. What is he doing?

"Thought you could run off, Belle? With the best of my tools." Tisk-tisking he then addressed the dock guard, luckily not one of the praetorians. We might have a chance of pulling this off. "Thankless girl. I take her in after her father dies, and how does she repay me? Stealing and attempting to desert. "He frowns his bright blue eyes. He almost looks serious! If it weren't for that wild red bushy hair. He really needs a comb.

Pan pulled the bag off of my shoulder and started pulling items out.

"Oh, planning to disappear as an Aurorian, eh?" There was my cloak and he shoved it under his armpit. "Bah! And my favorite multi-wrench," he wagged the metal tool under the dock guard's nose, "They don't make them like this anymore, you know." He shoved the items back into the bag and continued talking. "Good thing you caught her, or she might have slipped away. Well done, sir. Now you come back where you belong." With that, Pan grabbed my left arm and pulled me along, ignoring the stutters of the man behind us.

Pan waited until we were out of hearing range. I could hear the large smile in his voice without even looking.

"Did you see me? Wow, I was good. I had him right where I wanted him and you - you should have seen the look on your face! The sword at your throat was the best."

I couldn't take it anymore. With my free right hand I punched him hard in the shoulder.

"Ow, what was that for?"

"Stop your bragging."

"Aren't you a little thankful I showed up when I did?"

"Of course, Captain."

Then his voice got more serious. "We were beginning to wonder. You didn't meet our deadline."

"I ran into... some complications."

"Well, the Windy Bird is ready to sail. If you are ready," he stretched out his arm with a flourish. We'd arrived at the 'ship and he motioned for me to step up the ramp first.


	2. Chapter 2

On board I was greeted by the crew, a rag-tag group of mostly young men and women. The youngest being 7, the oldest 50. Pan didn't turn away anyone. Even me, an in-between 17 year old girl who can't decide if she still wants to be a child or an adult. Really, I say both. Why lose the innocence, imagination, and love that a child can have? Why ignore the struggles, responsibility, and romance an adult can have? I want the best of both worlds - I suppose only time will tell if I can make that work.

I felt bad for worrying them. I had volunteered for this mission, but so had others. I insisted, probably selfishly, on account of my father. What Red had done to him, I had to be the one to take on this mission. Annicka - most called her Red for the bright blood red cape she wore. It wasn't a full cloak, but a cape with a hood. She wore it all of the time, and when she rode her dragon mount it would snap in the air like a poisoned tail. The inside was black, much like I imagined her heart was.

What did she do to him? Well, when Red sets her mind that she wants something, she gets it - no matter who is hurt. My father was a writer, bookseller, and shop owner. He'd made a good living off of his works and the shop. Enough so that we had a nice house in the countryside. He'd had a library custom built in the center of the house - the center of knowledge and adventure he'd call it. It was like a cave, or maybe a mausoleum, entirely made out of books. The walls and ceilings were books; there were twists and turns like a maze, small alcoves to hide in. All of it constructed of books that could be removed, and mirrors to create a dazzling room. But that's not why Red wanted it.

It was a great place for training. That's right - our home in the countryside was a great place for Red to train her elite praetorians. Not the regular soldiers, but special forces she alone controlled. They were called the Wolf Pack, mainly for their quick efficiency, stealth, and cunning. She didn't want anyone seeing their training regimen and stealing their ideas. Our home provided distance from the city as well as training grounds. We had a lovely field and a dense forest nearby. And the best part - no neighbors.

And when he wouldn't sell, she started rumors about him. The Wolf Pack would intercept his shipments and clients wouldn't receive their orders. People started to lose faith in my father. We felt their eyes always watching, always waiting. My father was concerned for my safety and pleaded for help in town, but they were loyal followers of Red and the government she represented - the Sphere's Collective.

Of course he was crazy. Bad blood, they said. It was only a matter of time, they said. Those that wrote books were never right in the head. That's how it has been ever since I can remember. And it has been getting worse every year. Books are bad - it's practically the slogan of the Sphere's Collective. Still, they sold. Still people wrote and read and shared.

Red shut down his bookstore. False claims that he hadn't paid the rent and owed taxes from previous years. Without his shop he struggled to keep the house maintained and food on the table. He refused to let me work, to help him, until it was too late. He got a job in a factory. He says it was the dusty air he wasn't used to that made him ill. I think Red did it. I don't know how. Maybe she arranged for him to breathe a powdered poison. Maybe someone slipped something into his drink for some extra coins.

But my father got ill, and he got ill fast. Bedridden he finally consented to me working. That's when I found Pan - or maybe Pan found me, but that's a story for another time. I was allowed to work and brought home enough money to feed us. We stayed in our house until the end, when Red and her Wolf Pack drug us away claiming we weren't making payments. My father _owned_ that house. He didn't need to make payments on it. She was able to produce paperwork, however, that said otherwise.

We moved into the city and rented a single room in a building with many people. Too many people. But I tried to stay positive for my father. No medicine aided him. And it wasn't that we couldn't pay for the medicine - Pan gave me whatever I needed to try and make him well again. See why I think it was Red? Only poison is incurable. And a broken heart, I've been told.

So my father passed away. His legacy tarnished by lies. His collection of books in the hands of those who would rid the world of the treasures that are found between bindings. No one even sells the books he wrote himself. The only remaining copies that I know of were in that house. And the contents of that house were taken to the Archive of Indecency of the Sphere's Collective in Aurora.

"How many did you get?"

"Was it hard?"

"Did you almost get caught?"

"Come on, show us the bag!"

The questions and demands came at me from all around as the crew surrounded me.

"Aright, alright. Give her some space. Belle will tell you all about it once we are under way." Pan pushed his way into the crowd and started to wave them away with both hands like he was shooing bugs away. "Mind your posts. Set sail the Windy Bird!"

A cheer went up from the crew and they turned, as their Captain had commanded, to return to their stations. Pan escorted me to his Captain's Cabin, his hand on the small of my back.

When the door was closed he turned to me with a wide smile.

"So, how many did you get?"

I laughed. "More than you thought, and less than I had hoped." I handed him the bag, holding on to the strings only and dangling it at arm's length from me. "I think I got about 100. I bet the bag could hold that much more before it met capacity. Sorry I couldn't get more."

With a large smile, Pan took the bag from me and pulled the drawstring open. "Finding that bean merchant in Crystalpine was fantastic for our cause. I don't know why the townspeople had thought he was a fraud."

"Because he was selling 'magic' beans that wouldn't grow. I'm just glad your money wasn't wasted, Captain."

"Did you find your father's books?"

I sighed. I knew that question would come up eventually, but I really didn't want to talk about it now. Today was a victory. We'd taken back nearly 100 books in one run from the Archive of the Sphere's Collective. Saved them from probable destruction - once they had had time to evaluate their contents. The leaders called it a cleansing of moral corruption - a return to decency. They labeled most literature, though I'd argue all, as unbefitting of the people in the realm. It was stifling, that's what it was. A way to control the knowledge our children could learn. A way to keep any ideas out of our heads that we were free-thinkers, that we didn't need Red and others like her, that there was so much more to this life we led. We were slaves to the ideals that were painted for us.

The leaders, the five pillars - as they have been called for as long as our government has existed in this way - have become more vocal in the past two or three years with their outrage at the contents of popular literature and pushed for a rebirth of knowledge centered around nationalism. Many followed, eager to become connected with their brothers and sisters of the realm. They were tired of feeling isolated on whatever continent their family had been born on. They wanted to feel connected. I don't blame them for those feelings. It is natural to feel wanted.

Even prior to these most recent years, before I was born, writers of fiction were starting to have mixed reception. There were those that argued that fiction opened the mind to possibilities. There were others who claimed it clouded the mind against reality. There were struggles, not physical of course in the literature world, and tensions seemed only to rise over the years. Maybe that's why our government stepped in when it did.

If you haven't guessed, my father was a fiction writer. He wrote things that would seem impossible, places that do not exist in our world. He opened our hearts and minds, made us think and guess, taught us life lessons, gave us the feeling of emotions. My father had the greatest power I've ever known. To be able to have so many things happen in a reader, that is power. He never told us _how_ to think, and I find that beautiful. He gave us the means to think.

"I only found one," I whispered, suddenly feeling vulnerable and a warm feeling growing behind my eyes. I cleared my throat and blinked rapidly as I turned my back on Pan to proceed toward the door.

"They could still be there. Or... in another archive. We'll find them." I appreciated the Captain attempting to reassure me. He always had such a positive outlook. Maybe his 12 more years of life experience made it that way. I hoped it didn't take me that long.

"Thanks Captain. I'm going to rest in my cabin for a bit."

"Alright, Belle. You deserve it."


End file.
